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The biggest unanswered question about the trek (aside from whether or not the Tibet border will open) is which backpack will ultimately join me on the trail. I’ve been debating this since Day 2 and have researched packs to death. My ancient, beloved CamelBak has been all over the world with me, but ultimately I think it’s a bit too small for a trek of this length and intensity. Although I managed with it just fine in Peru, I would have liked a bit more space and a more comfortable hip belt. Like the old, comfy boots, it’s time for a new pack.

My LowePro Photo Sport 200 turned out to be far too small and much too wimpy. It sagged and bent and twisted after a two hour hike here in Los Angeles, so I can’t imagine it would last more than ten minutes on the EBC Trek.

As a backup plan, I ordered the Clik Elite Obscura. The reviews were great and it seemed like it would solve a key problem – what to do with my camera. To be honest, I’m still debating whether or not I should take my DSLR with the 300mm lens. On the one hand, it’s super heavy and I can’t imagine lugging it up a mountain. On the other hand, it’s NEPAL! I can’t imagine not having it handy when an amazing shot presents itself, like this one I took of a Hadzabe boy in Tanzania. I’m truly torn. In any case, the Obscura arrived and…sat in my living room for a couple of months while I traveled and worked and went to doctors and got distracted by the life of a real girl.

This week, I finally took it out of the bag and tried it on. Have I mentioned that I hate online shopping? Detest it. With a passion. I miss brick and mortar stores where I can touch a backpack and stuff things in it and try it on and walk around with it for a while. This one just doesn’t fit my torso. It’s not comfortable at all. The camera is still really hard to get to, even with the special zippered compartment in the bottom of the pack. Good reviews or not, I can tell immediately that this one is not going to work for me. Of course, I’ve passed the 30 days where I can return it. Anyone want an Obscura? Looks like I have one for sale.

So today I headed out to REI in Huntington Beach, which is just about the only place on the planet left to actually try on backpacks. I can’t believe I didn’t get the name of the employee who helped me because he was FABULOUS! He suggested a few different options, loaded them up with weights, and patiently watched me galumph around the store, moving, twisting, and debating. For over an hour. One problem is that the 28 liter packs are just a *tad* too small, but the next size up in the models that fit me well were 36 liters – a tad too big. Another issue is that, well, how can I put this? I’ve learned that I really need a backpack designed specifically for women. I have, um, parts of my torso that get in the way if the straps aren’t cut just right. So that limited my options too.

With his help, I narrowed it down to the Gregory Jade 28 or the Deuter ACT Trail 28. I left the store with the Gregory Jade (in purple to match my Barney Boots), but I’m still not convinced it’s the right one. It fits like a glove. I hardly feel like I’m carrying any weight. I have never in my life worn such a comfortable backpack. It has one downfall though – it’s top-loading only and because of the fancy suspension in the back, it has sort of a crescent shape. It doesn’t stand up on its own and it’s a bit tricky to pack. There’s no full-length zipper, so you really have to dig for whatever you stash in the very bottom and the crescent shape makes getting to the bottom challenging. It doesn’t stand up – it tilts and rolls and fights you all the way. I can see this being a problem when it comes to my camera. My choices are to either pack it in the bottom and just know that I’ll only be able to use it when we stop at a tea house for the day, or I can ignore every bit of advice about proper weight distribution in a backpack and put it on the very top. It’ll still be hard to get to – I’ll need to at least slide the backpack off one shoulder – but that could work if it doesn’t throw the weight off completely. I decide to take it home, pack it up, and try it out.

On my way out the door, Awesome Employee (dang, I REALLY wish I remembered to ask his name!) reminded me that REI has a generous 100% guarantee policy – the one I used when I returned the Boots of Doom. That made me feel a lot better, as I don’t want to end up in the same situation that I’m in with the brand new, un-returnable Clik Elite bag.

I have a vision of myself collecting “not really used” gear like stray puppies. I suppose I could open a used gear shop, right? Hmm…it’s a thought! 😉

I still have to see one more specialist, but I am good to go to Everest Base Camp! It looks like I probably do, in fact, have a minor congenital heart defect after all. However, as far as heart problems go it’s pretty much a Best Case Scenario. It’s not going to kill me and it certainly explains a lot of issues I’ve had over the years that I wrongly attributed to various minor ailments: Climbing out of the Batoka Gorge in Zimbabwe? Asthma. (Nope.) Falling behind while trekking the Lares Trail in Peru? Altitude sickness. (Wrong.) Struggling on a climb in Malibu Creek? Allergies. (Definitely not.)

The good news is that with a couple of minor precautions – heart rate monitor, paying attention to my body’s signals – I can still climb to dizzying heights. I just have to be sure to slow down when my heart rate hits a certain point so I don’t actually get dizzy. I’ll never summit Everest (not that I was going to try,) and I’ll have to set my ego aside and accept that I’ll likely be the slowest person on the trek. But that’s okay. I CAN GO!!!!!!

So today, my friend Marian joined me for my first hike since this whole convoluted mess began. I’ll admit that I was a little scared. I didn’t really know what to expect, and I was glad I had a friend with me. In the end though, I had absolutely nothing to worry about. In fact, in the process of figuring out what was wrong I had a lot of tests – fitness tests included. As I was climbing up Water Tower Hill, I was thinking about my fabulous VO2 max and the fact that I am actually much healthier than most people my age. Between the positive focus and the rest step that another friend taught me as a way to increase my oxygen efficiency on climbs, I was literally jumping up and down doing the Happy Dance at the top of the hill – not even out of breath at all!

I have had this all my life. I have accomplished challenging climbs before, without even knowing I had any limitations. Why let the mere knowledge of something that’s always existed limit me now? Never!

I must have been asked this question five separate times within a couple of hours. Apparently, I’m one of the rare few who shows up in the cardiology department of a hospital with NO daily medications. That’s okay – I get my “medicine” the old-fashioned way and I intend to keep it that way, if at all possible. They don’t see vegetarians much here either, so I’ve learned to politely tolerate the mini-lectures on not eating cheeseburgers every day. Best to just smile and nod.

I spent a good chunk of today wired up, running on a treadmill (bras not allowed – a man designed this test, for sure!), checking out my heart on monitors, and laughing and joking with an amazing (and dare I say fun?) cardiology team at St. Mary Medical Center. I still need to wait for my cardiologist to read the results, but somehow I’m not too worried. My heart rate and blood pressure were exactly where they were supposed to be during the entire test, and they did exactly what they were supposed to do in different stages. My EKG was perfectly normal. My V02 Max surprised even me – it’s fabulous!

Of course, the cardiologist wasn’t actually there and without his interpretation of the results, I have no idea if the echocardiogram showed any abnormalities. I do know that it was really cool to see my own heart! It’s all there, and it’s beating. That’s good, right?

In any case, I’ll have a definitive answer next week. My money is still on allergies or asthma. Or maybe a cold I didn’t realize I had. Or a random carrot allergy, as one of my friends has put out into the universe.

But my heart? I bet it’s perfectly fine and ready to take me to Everest Base Camp!

After a couple of really good runs on Friday and Sunday, I had almost forgotten that I have more tests at the cardiologist’s office coming up on Thursday. Today, however, my run on the treadmill at the gym wasn’t that great. In fact, it was awful. My heart rate spiked to 90% of my maximum just three minutes into a slow jog. I slowed down to a walk and brought my heart rate down again, then was able to run for ten minutes at an even slower pace before hitting a wall and watching my heart rate spike again. After that, I slowed to a walk, cranked the incline up to 10% and walked out the rest of the hour. Clearly, something is still very wrong.

Right now, I’m facing my appointment on Thursday with mixed emotions. I’m both terrified and hopeful. I want an answer, but I’m hoping for a simple problem with an easy fix.

In the meantime, I’m just going to keep moving. One foot in front of the other, even if it has to be super slow. Just keep moving. After all, that’s how everyone gets to Everest Base Camp, right? And I’m still determined to get there.

Well, yes. I think so too. But here I am. I’m consulting with a cardiologist, while the trip to Everest Base Camp weighs heavily on my mind. How did I get here?

It all started about a month ago, on a group hike, when I became dizzy and extremely short of breath on an uphill segment and just couldn’t keep up. Or maybe before that, even, when my ankles started swelling up like balloons after relatively short flights. The pollen count was really high the day of the hike, and since 2004 I’ve been diagnosed/undiagnosed with asthma a couple of times. Whether it’s actually asthma or just allergies seems to remain an open question. In any case, despite running and hiking and all that, I’ve been having trouble increasing my cardio fitness significantly. In fact, I sort of appear to be going backwards, able to increase my endurance but only at slower jogging speeds.

So I thought it might be a good idea to see my doctor. I figured I’d walk out with a new inhaler and maybe another prescription for Singulair. Instead, she took about 10 seconds to tell me that she was sending me to a cardiologist. Granted, I showed her these photos taken of my feet after a four hour flight. Plus there are other risk factors as well – I had rheumatic fever as a child – so I understand her concern. And I wasn’t exactly thrilled with elephant cankles either. (Compare this to the photo of my feet on Day 7.) Still, I didn’t expect the next words that came out of her mouth, “symptoms of congestive heart failure.”

WHAAAT?????

I’m sure she saw the look on my face, and she quickly tried to reassure me by telling me that yes, it’s usually an old person’s problem, but she had a seemingly healthy 30 year old die in front of her from it once so young people can get it too. Um. Okay. That doesn’t exactly make me feel better. Now, I do medical sociology and conversation analysis for a living. Doctor/patient interaction is something I’m extremely familiar with from a research perspective. And let me tell you, that was just about the worst bad news delivery I’ve ever heard.

But there it was.

Later that day, I went to the lab, became a human pin cushion, dialed back the intensity of my training for now and…waited.

Today, the news is good. It is NOT congestive heart failure or any other obvious horrible heart condition rearing its ugly head. Still, there is a murmur and more tests next week should give us a much better idea of where things stand. In the meantime, I have not been exercising outdoors. I’ve been sticking to the treadmill at the gym, and to a nice, slow jog. My ankles are fine. Most days my breathing is fine. I still wonder if it’s just allergies or asthma, and if that ends up being the verdict I will be really upset that our medical system put me through this stress. The first day, I was in shock. The second, I cried. Now after hearing that all my labs are perfectly normal, I’m getting angry – at myself. I wonder if I should have even bothered to go to the doctor at all. I wonder why when I was a bit younger, similar symptoms were diagnosed as asthma and a low resting heart rate was considered a sign of fitness, not illness. I marvel at the lack of communication between my doctors and the lab and the insurance company. It seems like this process is taking so loooong and for the first time ever I feel like a collection of disconnected symptoms rather than a person. I wonder if a more holistic approach would feel any different, or have a different result. I wonder if something one doctor or another didn’t bother to ask could be important. I spent maybe 10 minutes with each of them, max.

All I can do now is wait, and hope that this was all for nothing. Hope that they freaked me out and caused a couple of weeks of stress for absolutely no reason at all. Because really, once the wheels of Western medicine are in motion, that’s the best case scenario. That I stressed out, took tons of time away from work, got pricked by phlebotomists who left week-long bruises, spent a lot of money, and in the end I come out the other side with all the tests negative and nothing objectively wrong, even though my ankles still swell and I can’t run faster than 4mph anymore. That’s the BEST thing that could happen. Makes you think, doesn’t it?

For now? Everest Base Camp is still ON! My cardiologist didn’t bat an eye, tell me to stop training, or give me any lectures on high altitude trekking. We’ll see what happens next week, but for now it’s a go and I intend to keep moving forward – even if it’s just at a slow jog!

First of all, you’re missing a whole bunch of days here – what’s going on?? It’s not you, it’s me. I’ve had to choose between actually doing stuff and writing about it for the last two weeks, so I decided to do. Don’t worry, I plan to catch up and fill in the gaps. Some really, really important stuff has happened – so here’s the “trailer” version. The asthma my doctor was pretty sure I didn’t really have? Now we’re pretty sure I have it after all. This has made training…interesting. New Barney purple hiking boots? Awesome. And I bought a boob wallet. Tibet? China closed the border and terrible human rights violations are happening there. This makes my travel planning seem so terribly petty in the grand scheme of world events. It’s a reminder of how very lucky I am to have the life that I do, and of how humbling travel can be.

Now, moving forward…

The Culture and Some Gear

On my way back to the hotel from lunch today, I did some shopping along the Pearl Street Mall in Boulder. I stopped in at the GoLite store and looked at a backpack that was on sale, but nothing really struck me as worthy of going home with me today. In fact, I’m doing quite well in the gear department and there’s not much left that I truly need. This is the point where I have to start being careful not to buy too much, knowing that once I start packing and weighing my bags I’ll end up leaving half of it behind anyway.

I passed a store called Potala Imports, and the rack of skirts out front caught my eye. An ankle length skirt! Now that’s something that I still need. I have several long skirts at home from my travels in Guatemala, but most of them are only calf length. Even though that’s probably fine – especially since I’ll likely be wearing long underwear beneath it – I think I’ll still be more comfortable going into monasteries and other sacred sites with my ankles fully covered. This type of cultural sensitivity can be tough for us Western women, but I find that erring on the conservative side is preferable to offending anyone in any way. It’s inevitable that when entering a culture with norms that are very different from your own, you will probably offend someone somewhere along the way. Still, it’s best to at least avoid the land mines that you’re warned about in advance, especially when it’s not that hard to do. Now, eating with only my right hand? That one could be a challenge. So I’m at least going to make sure my ankles stay covered.

I walk into the shop and I am mesmerized. I love little shops like this – full of incense, brightly colored fabrics, and tiny statues of Buddha and Ganesh. A mixture of Buddhism and Hinduism fills the air, and the palm reader in the back only adds to the eclectic mix. I marvel at how Eastern spirituality has become such a commodity here in the United States. Sacred beliefs become just more knick-knacks to sell on a tourist-filled street. I marvel at myself for buying into it all too. But I keep shopping.

I find a couple of skirts to try on, but most of them are made in the United States and they are very expensive. I find that odd, given the name of the shop. Imports? From Illinois? I know that if I wait until I get to Kathmandu, I’ll be able to buy a skirt for a fraction of the price and maybe, if I’m lucky and careful, I can find one made locally. Still, I find myself trying them on. One is too stiff and the fabric is a bit scratchy. I like the way it looks, but I remind myself that comfort will be key out there. Nobody will really care how it looks, but I will be wearing the same skirt for five weeks and I will certainly care how it feels. The second one is perfect. I love it. It’s soft, comfy, and will easily fit over a couple of layers if need be. It’s also a bit lighter, and I’ve learned that matters, a lot. It’s made in India and is “ethically produced,” whatever that means. It is also $60. I feel like a touristy fool, but I decide to fork over the cash.

On the way out, I pick up a small Ganesh pendant. Ganesh is the remover of obstacles, and I can certainly use all the help I can get. I look for the perfect tiny Buddha or Ganesh statue to carry with me on my travels, but the offerings here are all too a little too big and too heavy. “Light” is a recurring theme in my travel world. I stick with the pendant and the skirt.

As I wander back to the hotel, I pass another shop on the route that I take to my field site, Tibet Gallery. It’s always closed when I pass, both early in the morning and again late at night when my day is finally done. Today, it’s mid-day and it is open. I wonder if they have tiny Buddhas, so I go in.

This decision changes my whole day.

At first, it looks like just another knick-knack shop catering to people like me who like to spend money on incense and items that make us feel more spiritual while we go about our daily lives selling out to The Man. I could not have been more wrong.

Yes, I found my tiny statues. But I found much more. I overhear the owner, Tenzin Passang, talking with another customer about the Tibetan community. When it’s my turn at the counter, I mention that I’ve been planning a trip to Tibet, but that due to China closing the border it’s probably not going to happen. I ask him if he has family there. He does. For the next 15 minutes, I learn about the people who have chosen to self-immolate in protest. For the first time, I hear their names, ages, and about their families. I learn that they choose self-immolation in order to avoid harming anyone else and that they pray for all sentient beings, as the freedom of Tibet is tied to the freedom of all. This is not just a spiritual belief, it is concrete and real – we talk about how the economy of China impacts the rest of the world, including us, here in the United States. He reminds me that buying products made in China supports the human rights violations of the Chinese elite, as they are not using the profits to uplift their own people but to oppress them.

I remember the movie Mardi Gras: Made in China. I’ve seen it many times, and I used it as a teaching tool in my Social Problems class. Every time I see those girls toiling away in dangerous conditions for the sole purpose of making plastic beads that American women flash body parts to get, I swear off buying Chinese goods. But it strikes me that it’s so easy to forget the message when I’m stressed out, hurrying through a store, trying to find a new microwave or set of coffee mugs or a pair of socks. Today, I’ll think of the people of Tibet and I’ll remember to look for items made in democratic countries with a better human rights record than China. But will I remember to do that tomorrow? I like to think that I will. I will try.

Other customers are in the shop, so I arrange to meet Tenzin another time for more conversation over tea. I am looking forward to hearing more about the beauty of the people and culture of Tibet, and about how we can help. This visit made my day, and I return to the hotel grounded and grateful and more awake and aware than I was when I left.

I’ve put down a deposit on the trip, started training and testing gear, and booked myself out of work for five weeks. But there’s one major piece of the puzzle still missing – booking my flights to and from Kathmandu.

I’ve waited this long because the trek isn’t the only element making up my trip to Nepal. Although she won’t be trekking with me, my friend Susan will be joining me for the first couple of weeks in Nepal. Or Tibet. Or Bhutan. That’s the hold-up. I’m not 100% sure when she wants to arrive, and what we will be doing for that first couple of weeks. She’ll be returning before me, but we want to book the same arrival flight, so it requires some coordination.

Tuesday, we both review some of our options. A side trip to Tibet is our first choice and there are fixed departure tours from Kathmandu leaving every Tuesday and Saturday. According to the emails we’ve received from a few different agencies, we would need to arrive in Kathmandu by Tuesday in order to get our Tibet permits in time for a Saturday departure. So we look at the calendar and decide that our goal is to arrive in Kathmandu by Tuesday, October 9 at the latest. On Wednesday, I start looking for flights.

Singapore Airlines and Thai Airways seem to be our primary options, but I’m a frequent flyer mile diva so I immediately go with the Star Alliance airline – Thai Airways. I never actually bother to use my frequent flyer miles for overseas travel – it’s a huge pain and takes more of my time than it’s worth – but I fly so much for work that I always want to make sure that I achieve elite status for the following year. I’d rather pay the money and have that elite status than use banked miles for the trip. I go straight to the airline’s website and I’m surprised to find that fares aren’t bad at all. Much less than I paid to get to Africa last summer. I play with several itineraries, looking at a day or two earlier, leaving on weekdays rather than weekends, all kinds of combinations. The key here seems to be to find a way to somehow NOT get stuck in Seoul, South Korea for a 20-some hour layover. It’s possible, but takes some trial and error.

In the end, I find a great series of flights out of LAX through Bangkok, for $1644. I decide that I want to be able to change the date on my flight home, just in case, but that I don’t need to pay $300 more to be able to change the routing. We’ll be leaving Los Angeles mid-day on October 6 and arriving in Kathmandu mid-day on October 8. There’s one connection in Bangkok, with a 10 hour layover. Not really enough time to do anything interesting, but better than delaying our arrival with an entire lost day in Seoul. My flight home is similar, leaving Kathmandu on November 10 and arriving home on November 11. I’m also surprised that Business Class is only $3000 more, and I briefly consider booking it for this terribly long flight. However, I’m not traveling alone and it would be really mean to book Business Class when my friend would be in Economy. So I decide to just let that go. In order to meet a client’s budget, I flew in economy seats for 57 hours straight returning home from Africa – on rather uncomfortable Ethiopian Airlines planes – and I survived. I even got cute little airplane shaped crackers. This won’t kill me.

I double check with Susan, to make sure the departure flight will work for her since our plan is to travel together on that leg of the trip. She says it’s great and I should book it. No matter how much I’m looking forward to any trip, hitting that “submit” button when booking a long, expensive flight is always the moment of truth. My finger hovers over the mouse. I re-read the flight itinerary over and over, just to be sure I’ve got it right. I hesitate. I get butterflies in my stomach. Finally, I click. And it’s done. The butterflies don’t subside, but somehow they change. Nervousness becomes excitement. The trip becomes real.

When I get the confirmation email I notice that my seat selection only registered for the first leg of the flight. On long flights, I always try to get an aisle. On short flights, I prefer a window. I’ll have to call them tomorrow to fix that, since it’s after 7pm and their local office is closed. My vegetarian meals are noted though, and I am happy.

I forward the itinerary to Susan and a few hours later, she forwards me hers. It’s done! We’re really going to Nepal!

I’m grateful for the holiday weekend, since I actually get to make up some time by squeezing in two hikes this weekend instead of one! Since I did hills at Peters Canyon on Saturday, I’ll head to Palos Verdes today. This trail is a regular hike for me, and it’s incredibly deceptive. You start at the top of the hill and make your way down to the bottom. The grade isn’t steep at all, so it’s super easy to feel really confident – until you find yourself at the bottom, looking at the top of the hill where you parked your car. D’oh! As I turn and head back up, I realize that this trail is what Arturo, myACTIVE South Americaguide on the Jaguar trip in Peru, called “Andean flat.” It looks flat at first glance, but your heart rate tells you otherwise!

This is a great trail to work on endurance, and on setting a good pace. I’m the kind of person who will burn out if I stop and rest. I do much better if I just keep moving slowly, one step at a time. My goal today was to get from the bottom to the top without stopping – and I made it!

The Gear

This is also a great place for the first test hike in new boots. It’s the same trail I took the Vasque Wasatch boots on for the first time, so it seemed fair to bring out the Barneys. Um, I mean the Ahnu Montaras. There’s some downhill, some uphill, and a lot of slippery shale. It’s the perfect test track.

Now, I’m trying not to jinx this, but…wow! You know how sometimes you break up with someone after a really tumultuous relationship, and then you meet someone new and realize that you have absolutely no idea what you ever saw in that first person anyway, because the new guy is just perfect for you? This is like that.

Okay, maybe they’re not perfect. The down side is that the soles of the Barneys are lighter and more flexible, so I definitely feel every rock I step on. Traction isn’t as good either, although Peters Canyon will be a better test of that on the downhills. However, I’m used to all that. Living in Southern California, the only time I ever hike in boots is when I’m planning to go somewhere else. I usually hike in trail runners or even hiking sandals, so feeling the road isn’t a deal-breaker. It’s kind of like a car – my ex-boyfriend’s Audi A6 didn’t feel a single bump. It was smooth and felt sturdy and solid. My Audi TT? It feels every little groove, every pebble. It hugs the road. It feels delicate, and honestly? Given my repair bills, it is delicate. But I still prefer the TT on the road, and I prefer the Ahnus on the trail.

I’ve learned that how your feet feel when you take the boots off is just as important as how they feel when you have them on. I felt like I’d been wearing comfy slippers all day! As a bonus, I’ve just taken sides in the Gore-Tex vs. eVent war. It was in the low 80s at the trailhead and I sweat. I mean I REALLY sweat. Especially when I’m wearing liner socks AND thick wool hiking socks. I expected my feet to be soaked just like the rest of my body was when I took my boots off at the car. They were bone dry. No joke. There was barely a lick of moisture on the inside of those boots. I’m firmly on Team eVent now!

I’ll admit to a little trepidation about the fact that these are light hikers and not serious backpacking boots. I have faith in them though, and since they’re much closer to the weight and heft of my old, comfy boots, I’m going to give them the benefit of the doubt. After all, the single most important thing out there is that they fit comfortably. These clearly meet that criteria. I’m even starting to like the purple…a little bit. Maybe. Although given the way they looked after a single hike, I’m guessing they won’t stay purple long!

It’s a rest day for training and although my feet are feeling a bit better this morning, a trip to the REI shoe section is high on my agenda.

Back in the store, I’m overwhelmed by all of the options and afraid of making the wrong decision again. One thing I like about REI is that the employees there actually know their stuff, so I decide to just spew my story and ask for help. I’m not sure what’s wrong with the Vasque boots – they’re heavier than my old ones, and stiffer. Maybe that’s the problem? REI Guy listens politely and disappears into the back room. He emerges with a stack of boxes. Most are a bit lighter than the Vasque boots, not as “hard-core” but boots that should still be able to do 15 miles a day with a 20 lb pack without a problem.

The first pair is still way too heavy and stiff. They fit just like the Vasque, so I set them in the ‘no’ pile.

The second pair is heavy, but a bit more comfortable and not as stiff. They go in the ‘maybe’ stack.

The third pair is torture from the very first second, laces digging into my foot no matter how I tie them. ‘No’ stack, it is.

The fourth pair is…purple??? Huh?? Did I wander out of REI and into Macy’s? I’m skeptical. I put them on. Holy comfort, Batman! These feel like my old, comfy, retired pair. They seem to mold to my foot and scream, “I can walk for DAYS!” I have never heard of the brand – these are Ahnu Montaras. They are eVent rather than Gore-Tex, which I have never tried. I whip out my phone and do a quick Google search for reviews. Hmm. People like them. I walk around a bit. I try standing on the incline simulator – toes don’t bump the front. So far, so good. But they’re PURPLE. They are also clearly not as hard-core as the Vasque boots. They have fabric where I want to see leather, and stitching where I want to see rivets. Still…they’re SO comfortable.

I stew for a while and then decide that even if they only last through this trip, comfort is more important than durability. If my feet feel like they did last night at the end of a day in the Himalayas, I’m in trouble. I don’t even want to imagine 19 whole days of that kind of foot pain. If these boots keep my feet comfy but fall apart right after the trip, so be it.

Purple, it is.

I ask if they come in any other color, and REI Guy says no. At home, I learn this is not true. I could order them online from other retailers in a nice Coffee Bean or Dark Gray. I’m a little annoyed about that white lie, which is not befitting someone who works at REI, and I consider returning them and buying a normal color elsewhere…but the purple ones are here and they’re starting to grow on me. They’ll match my purple trekking poles, and go nicely with my ice blue down jacket. I think I’ll keep them.

As a bonus, I ask about REI’s return policy on the way out. I knew it was liberal, but I still fully expected that the Vasque hiking boots that had been worn for two months would be an exception. Surprise!! Not even a flinch. He tells me to bring them back for a full refund. No hassles. No questions. He even gives me another 20% off the new pair, since I used my annual 20% member coupon on the pair that didn’t work out. I think I’ll keep the old ones until I’m sure these will work, then I’ll clean them up and back they’ll go. I guess that’s just another reason to keep the purple and buy at REI rather than online – if these don’t work, I can still try another pair. Good to know!

I’m wearing them around the house tonight – so far, so good! Aren’t they pretty?

I’m feeling like such a slug lately! It’s Memorial Day weekend, but instead of going to a barbecue where everyone will be pigging out and drinking booze, I’m going hiking because I really need to get off my butt after the last two weeks on the road. Yes, I’m hiking by myself. On a holiday. Story of my life, but that’s okay. It was supposed to rain today but it ended up being an absolutely gorgeous day with temperatures in the mid-70s. Perfect for a hike!

I headed to Peters Canyon again, figuring that I should climb some hills after spending the last week or so on my bum. Today I decided to add some mileage by doing an extra ridge loop and the loop around the lake in addition to twice up and back on the roller-coaster hill trail. All in all, I hiked for about 3 hours. Nice! I feel much better now.

I think I found evidence that Bigfoot roams this trail too! 😉

The Gear

I’m calling time of death on the new Vasque Wasatch boots. I’ve had them for two months now, carefully broken them in, and tonight? My feet are KILLING me! I’m not getting blisters but my feet just feel tortured. Massive fatigue after just three hours. This is never, ever, ever, going to work on the way to Everest Base Camp. These are clearly not the boots for me.

I’m writing this as I sit on the couch, rolling my feet over a frozen water bottle. My phone rings across the room, but my feet hurt too much to get up and answer it. This is not normal after two months of wear. As much as I love the traction on these boots and their solid construction, if I’m still questioning whether or not they will work, I think I have my answer.